


Can't Guard Against

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Possessive Behavior, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dealing with increased feelings of protectiveness, after exposure to another Asgardian artifact isn't fun for anyone. Luckily for him, Grant has practice in pretending to be what he's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Guard Against

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jdphoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Guard Your Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452544) by [jdphoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix). 



> The ever lovely [jdphoenix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix%20) was kind enough to shove me through the editing process. Seriously, this would be so much shorter (and less developed) without her.

It was Asgardian, because of course it was. Grant wondered if it was possible for an entire species to have it out for him in particular. He knew it was an overly dramatic thought, but he was really starting to hate the entire race based completely on the things they let fall to earth.

Grant let his head bump into the wall of the Cage as he fought off the urge to snarl. He’d been having the urge a lot since his confinement two days ago, and he fought it off every time. Instead he sighed, just like every other time, and shrugged in response to Coulson’s question about his emotional state. He made his shoulders slouch forward, and admitted that the isolation was getting to him, that emotionally he was slightly annoyed that the whole thing had happened, but he was mostly just bored from lack of action.

A word association game followed that made Grant want to bash his own head in. But at the end of it all he was released, though heavily watched. 

Grant cornered Skye as soon as he was out, and demanded to know what she said to the scientist and the engineer. 

“Don’t worry big guy, I got your back. I just told them you were feeling overly protective of the team in general, and we should do our best not to set you off. Your secret crush is way safe.” She patted him on the shoulder, grinning, and he was relieved enough that he didn’t bother to tell her off for it. 

Skye, being Skye, didn’t need prompting to continue updating him on what he’d missed. “While you were in the jig we video conferenced Randolph. And of course, the dude had no idea about the stupid armor, so SHIELD is trying to get in touch with the Asgardians. I think he might’ve been lying though – I mean, he lied so much about the staff and that thing was his own fault anyways. But, apparently they’re gonna try to get someone to come and investigate, and I’ve got my fingers crossed for Thor, but A.C. said that was unlikely, which sucks.” 

Grant grimaced, not overjoyed at the thought of more Asgardians, especially if they’d be coming onto the Bus. Skye continued to ramble on about things he didn’t care about for the next few minutes, before he managed to casually escape to look in on Simmons.

For the first few days it seemed like every time he turned around May was there, watching him with calm dark eyes. He knew what he was doing though, and stayed reasonably rational until she stopped watching him quite as often, though he was still clearly under some low-level of surveillance. 

They were on the Bus and relatively safe, however, so although he found himself unwilling to be in a room without Simmons, it wasn’t impossible. There were two close calls before he managed to get a better handle on himself, and he was lucky that May only saw one of them.

The first involved a whistling teakettle and Grant forcibly frog-marching Simmons from the kitchen.

The second was when Simmons stubbed her toe. They were lucky that she was standing between him and the coffee table, because when he tried to move her out of the way she refused to let go of his shoulders and demanded what he thought he was doing – and some sense filtered back in before he could demolish the table that had injured her.

He started to develop ways to deal with his overprotectiveness, until he felt that it was manageable. Mainly, staying in the room with Simmons as much as humanly possible – and making sure he knew exactly where she was if he couldn’t be in the room with her. This involved secretly tagging every pair of shoes she owned, including her bed slippers, so that he could always see where she was with a quick glance at his tablet. 

Because he was always in a room with Simmons if he could be, he was nearly always in a room with Fitz, and he didn’t want to examine why it was still important to him that no one realize just how specifically he was focused. 

That wasn’t true. He didn’t want anyone to realize because that could put Simmons in more danger if someone wanted to get to him – or they could take advantage of his focus on her to harm the rest of the team. And the rest of the team was important as well. Simmons would be deeply upset if anything happened to any of them.

Towards May and Coulson he didn’t feel anything particularly protective, though it was a relief to realize he also didn’t think either of them would ever harm Simmons. He was also sure that while Simmons would be upset were something to happen to either of them, it would be less damaging than if something were to happen to Skye or Fitz. That too was a relief to realize.

He convinced himself that protecting the rest of the team did, in fact, count as protecting Simmons. Though he had no doubt in his mind whom he’d be saving were they all in danger at any point.

It helped, somewhat, to be protective of the others in blatant ways that he was trying to resist with Simmons. Catching Skye when she tripped on the steps, then insisting on carrying her up them so it didn’t happen again, despite her flailing around. Shielding Fitz from the explosion he triggered, and then carrying him to see Simmons. Fitz wasn’t hurt at all – which probably should’ve been clear from the way he yelled at being carried – but it was a good excuse to visit Simmons in the lab and watch her for a few moments. 

If anyone noticed that Simmons was safe from being carried, they didn’t comment. He did his best not to touch her because he was fairly sure if he did it would be difficult to stop – and he had to protect her from everything. Including him. She was precious and he was…unworthy of her. 

Given the circumstances, and how badly interactions with Asgardian technology had gone in the past, SHIELD demanded a non-compromised specialist around, despite Grant’s protestations that he was handling the situation. He was not, however, displeased with the situation; as far as he was concerned another specialist meant someone else he could throw between Simmons and danger. He did request to know who they would be sending, and approved Tripp’s temporary addition to the team. Unfortunately, with Tripp came Garrett. 

Grant knew Garrett better than he thought he sometimes knew himself. The man had made him who he was – both the good and the bad. So when Garrett approached him after chatting with Coulson, Grant had to deliberately force himself to relax and not to show any signs of stress. Weakness was unacceptable. He calmly put a bookmark into his novel and stood up to greet the older man.

His former SO clapped him on the back and said, “I heard you had another run in with some alien tech, that’s shit luck, son.”

“Yes, sir. Though it’s manageable.” He very specifically forced his mind away from Simmons, it was just like being on a job. He was SHIELD Agent Grant Ward who would protect his team because it was his job, and for no other reason.

Garrett cocked an eyebrow, and probed. “Your team seems worried you’re going to go off the deep end.”

Grant shrugged, lazily, before speaking, “It’s always a concern with these Asgardian artifacts, they aren’t exactly made for us mere mortals, ya’know?” 

Garrett chuckled, and only experience with the noise told Grant it wasn’t as lighthearted as it sounded. “I hear ya. This one causes increased attachments, something like that, right?” The emphasis was subtle, but clear, and Grant’s mind instinctively flinched away from thoughts of a chocolate lab.

He’d had practice at this game though; it was just as easy as cheating a lie detector test, so his voice was light and relaxed when he said, “No, just protectiveness. You have to have an attachment for it to work at all, apparently.” He was lucky that he had been away from the lab when Garrett first arrived on the Bus, or else his deception would’ve been immediately obvious.

Garrett adapted his disapproving SO face, and his tone showed the slightest disapproval that Grant didn’t believe for an instant. “Not bonding well?”

“They trust me, I trust them, but you know I’m not the team sort.” Grant succeeded in keeping his tone light and unconcerned, but his insides were churning.

Garrett laughed, and said, “Right you are. Glad to hear it. It’d be a shame for something happening to someone on this boat to send you off the deep end, you’re a specialist, gotta keep your cool.” Garrett squeezed his shoulder, warningly, and headed off elsewhere. 

Grant sat back down, and picked his book back up. His eyes darted across the pages, and he turned them at an appropriate speed – but he wasn’t reading a word. He had a problem to solve, and no clean way to do it. It was only a matter of time before Garrett realized that Grant had lied to him, that he had at least one attachment to the team. 

Grant didn’t fool himself into thinking he could keep Garrett in the dark for very long, the man had taught him quite literally everything he knew and would see through the act quickly enough. 

For a moment he imagined Garrett giving him permission to turn Simmons. It would be much easier to protect her with HYDRA resources at his disposal. But she wouldn’t turn easily, no, she’d have to be broken first. That was unacceptable. He wouldn’t do anything to cause her pain. 

Garrett would never see how important Simmons was. But, maybe it wouldn’t matter. If Grant still did what was required of him, well, it wasn’t like they’d be revealed at any point. It would be fine. 

Grant had almost convinced himself of the fact when, hours later, he was sitting in the lab for more tests. Simmons was insisting on reading his vitals every few hours, to insure that nothing dangerous was happening to him. It was, by far, the best part of the entire situation. He got to sit there, shirtless, while she strapped various reader things that he didn’t even try to understand to his skin. And he didn’t think he imagined her blush when her fingers lingered on his bare skin. His condition hadn’t made him any less physically attractive to her. 

Unfortunately, this time they had company in the lab. Garrett had Grant tense, but that was survivable. What was inexcusable was Triplett. Flirting. Flirting with Simmons. He watched with slightly narrowed eyes as Triplett brushed his hand lightly down Simmons’ arm, and made some inane comment about not minding getting injured if the medics were always so pretty. 

Simmons blushed, but before she could respond, her attention was drawn to the tablet she was holding, and instantly she was at Grant’s side. “Your epinephrine levels are spiking, are you feeling any increased aggression, Agent Ward?” 

He felt better already, with her away from Triplett. Her hand on his arm and warm concerned eyes were just a bonus. “No, I feel fine.” 

She frowned down at the screen on her tablet, and then looked up alarmed, as his levels spiked again, despite how calm he looked sitting there, as Triplett stepped forward again.

Skye, always exceptionally observant, swept forward and grabbed Triplett’s arm. “Hey, since my SO is kind of indisposed, would you mind taking over my training while you’re here? We’re trying not to stress him out, just in case he snaps or something – and trust me, I am very stressful.” 

Triplett grinned down at her, charmed as so many people were by Skye, and said, “Sure thing, short stuff.” He raised a hand and bid the other occupants of the room goodbye – with Grant’s levels spiking slightly when he called Simmons “Jemma” – before leaving. 

Simmons poked at him more than usual, given the unusual readings, before finally letting him leave. 

On the way out the door, with Simmons and Fitz bent over something on the other side of the lab, Garrett stopped him and nodded towards the other two. “Is that going to be a problem?” 

Grant, even expecting it, couldn’t help but stiffen slightly, before saying, “No, sir.” 

Garrett nodded, but continued to look speculatively into the laboratory. “Good. I’d hate to have a repeat of Buddy.” 

Grant looked sharply at the other man, and upon seeing the threat clear in his eyes, nodded. “Understood.”

And he did understand. 

He had to protect Simmons from the man who had always previously had his unending loyalty. 

There was a part of him that raged against the thought of harming the man who was his entire family. But while he was trying, desperately, to come up with any other way to make it work, to make Garrett understand, Simmons came up into the living area. She had made him tea; chamomile because she thought it would help keep him calm. She smiled brightly at him as she handed it over, and all objections faded from his mind. 

Garrett had to die. For Simmons.

Grant waited until later in the evening, before casually asking Garrett if he’d be willing to spar with him. His SO agreed, naturally. “I’d be happy to teach you how it’s done!”

They headed down into the cargo bay, trash talking each other, when Grant realized he had forgotten his hand-wraps. He left Garrett putting on his own, bitching about Grant forgetting things. 

Grant went into his room and remotely triggered the electronic disrupter he had hid in the cargo bay earlier in the evening. He grabbed his hand-wraps and headed back to the cargo bay.

Garrett was on the ground, clawing at his side and gasping, spittle flying. Grant hurried down the steps, legitimately frantic. It hurt to see the man who’d given him this life dying. All of him regretted that it had come to this. He grabbed the man’s hand, let him claw at him, and yelled for Triplett and Simmons and anyone, knowing full well that Simmons and Fitz had both already gone to bed and that Triplett was likewise bedded down in the docked jet. 

May was the first one down the stairs, just in time to see Garrett successfully pull his shirt up to reveal the panel at his side. To her credit, she rushed back up the stairs to get someone with medical experience while Grant, seemingly confused, helped Garrett open up the panel. Garrett hadn’t seen May, instead gasping out Grant’s name. 

Grant met Garrett’s frantic gaze, eyes filled with tears. “I am sorry. I couldn’t let you hurt her.” 

Garrett managed to gurgle out, “Always been weak.” And as blood frothed out of his mouth, he finally died. 

Grant allowed himself to cry, looking up in hurt confusion at May who had managed to return with everyone on the Bus – Triplett and Simmons in the lead. 

Simmons laid her hand on his shoulder, pulling him back slightly so that Triplett could start chest compressions. After only a moment though, he stopped.

Triplett looked up with horrified eyes to meet Grant’s equally horrified gaze. His own voice sounded alien as he choked out, “No. No!” And he lunged forward and grabbed Triplett’s shirt. “Save him!” He shook the other man for a moment before letting go and sinking down with his forehead against the man who had kept him alive, who had saved his life. Who was dead. “Save him.”

That was when everyone else saw the opened panel imbedded in Garrett’s side, visible with the rucked up shirt. Simmons and Skye tried to drag him away before he could see it, but he refused to move and they weren’t strong enough to budge him. 

He was in shock, shaking slightly, and it took May, Triplett and Coulson to move him out of the cargo bay. He felt like he was moving through fog – or wrapped in thick cotton. And before it started to clear they had him locked in his room. 

The let him out the next morning, and when Simmons told them she had tested the serum in Garrett’s side, and found it identical to the centipede serum, he punched the wall hard enough to dent it. The ache in his hand told him he may have broken something, and he certainly sounded broken – broken and angry as he turned to Coulson and demanded they check to see if Garrett had one of those triggered eyes too, since he could not have been a willing participant. 

Coulson made soothing noises that Grant didn’t believe for an instant, and he continued to protest that his SO couldn’t have been involved. Triplett joined him, raging against the mere thought. 

Of course, within days a widespread investigation had taken place and Garrett’s willing involvement had come to light. Grant locked himself in the cage and got blindingly drunk in response. Triplett agreed to help the investigation further along. 

After a truly epic hangover, he refused to talk about it. Responding normally as long as his former SO wasn’t mentioned. He was relieved, however, that Triplett was removed from the Bus, although he had demolished a punching bag when he saw the other man embrace Simmons before leaving. The fact that he saw it on the security camera and that the other man was gone by the time he’d gotten there was the only thing that kept him from taking his rage out on Triplett. 

Grant didn’t actually know if anyone was in a position to take over centipede after Garrett’s death, and he didn’t particularly care. Simmons was safe. That was all that mattered. And centipede looked like it was Triplett’s problem now.

Thoughts of his former SO were still painful, and so he did his best to stay around Simmons as much as possible. She made the pain disappear. And he tried to focus on the immediately pressing concerns, like the fact that the warrior Sif was being transported to the Bus to discuss the Asgardian artifact.

The armor was placed in a lead plated box in the middle of the table, where the discussion was taking place. Sif moved around a lot, pacing from one end of the room to the other, but never in a repeatable sensible pattern. Grant stuck close to Simmons’ side, eyes never leaving Sif. He couldn’t help but tense though, every time Sif moved, as he resisted the urge to shift Simmons away from the other woman. 

“There is a single object of your enhanced focus.” Sif’s voice was clear and direct as she met his eyes – seemingly aware of his tension though she hadn’t indicated it before. 

His eyes narrowed, but he refused to respond. 

Skye, on the other hand, had no such reservations. “Oh yeah, definitely. Single object.” 

He could feel a snarl build in his throat, but he fought it back.

Sif watched him like she could see inside his soul, and he was unpleasantly reminded of Lorelei. She continued to stare at him, and despite speaking about him, was clearly not speaking to him as she turned to Coulson and said, “He is managing the protectiveness well. That is good. I will remove the breastplate and seal it. However, it will take quite some time for the protectiveness to fade. If he becomes unmanageable, we have resources to keep him contained.” 

“Oh no!” It was a fight for Grant not to turn like a flower to the sun at Simmons’ voice, but he resisted. After all, Sif was the threat. Simmons was fine. “He’s been doing fine – and since you said it’ll wear off with time, it’s far more likely he would be unmanageable at the beginning, and he wasn’t. The worst must be over.”

Sif arched an eyebrow and started to shift towards Simmons directly. He could feel his muscles tense further and he was prepared to move in an instant. “Ah, so he has not actually had to act yet then. Although he may be managing the protectiveness, there are other, lesser symptoms. The breastplate also allows the protector increased strength and agility – if he is acting to protect his charge. However, even in Asgardians it does not temper the increase and those who have used it in the past ended up crippled from the increase. It may be a very long time before he is completely safe.”

Simmons covered her mouth with shock. “Oh.” He fought the urge to comfort her, forcing his gaze away from her to stay on Sif who was still a body length away. May was close, he could shove Simmons into May and hit Sif if he had to. 

Sif nodded decisively. “We have manacles that should suit. I will send them down in a sealed box so you will not have to wait for someone to return if he needs to be contained.” 

Coulson smiled his harmless smile. “That would be very helpful, thank you Lady Sif.” He gestured for her to precede him from the room, asking as they walked out. “I don’t suppose you have any idea of the timeframe before the protectiveness fades?” 

They could hear the beginning of her negative response as she talked to him over her shoulder heading into Coulson’s office. 

May took a moment to look over each of the members of the team, expressionless, before following the other two.

Grant remained tense until the door had shut, and only then did he allow himself to look over Simmons to make sure she wasn’t actually somehow hurt – and then he forced himself to do the same for Fitz and Skye as their injury would be upsetting to Simmons. 

Fitz was speaking when Grant allowed himself to look at Simmons again. “Wait, I thought Ward was feeling protective towards all of us. Who’s his focus, Skye?” 

Skye turned shocked eyes to Grant, and he shook his head very slightly, glare firmly in place. 

It turned out the warning wasn’t needed, however, as Simmons said, “Isn’t it obvious Fitz? It’s Skye.” 

Skye blinked, shocked, and before she could do something like laugh at the concept, Grant spoke, “Yes. It is Skye.” He shot Skye a warning look. “I’m her SO, it’s my job to protect her.”

Simmons’ smile seemed brittle, when he glanced back to her and Fitz, and Fitz was frowning, lips pursed and clearly unconvinced. “Well, I’ve got some tests to run on the new prototype, come on Fitz.” And with that said, Simmons swept out of the room. 

Grant started to follow her, instinctively, when Skye grabbed his arm, speaking softly, “Ward, I don’t think – she should know she’s who you’re protecting.” 

He pulled his arm from her grip. “No. That will put her in more danger.”

Skye scoffs, “Really? You think she’s not going to get into trouble anyways? Hell, if she thinks she can protect both of us by stepping between me and something, you know she’s going to do it now right?” 

He frowned. “She’s not that fool—“ and with a grimace he remembered a thousand and one instances of her being just that foolhardy. The urge to immediately go check to make sure she hadn’t somehow managed to endanger her life in the last thirty seconds was nearly overwhelming, and he took a step forward before he managed to get control of himself. 

Skye didn’t even seem to notice his aborted movement, as she waved a hand through the air. “Exactly! So you have to tell her!”

He nodded, shortly. “Distract Fitz for me.” And then let himself hurry towards the lab. He paused at the door, glancing through the room, immediately relieved to see that Simmons seemed perfectly fine and safe, if unhappy as she and Fitz argued using ten syllable words he didn’t recognize. 

He took a deep breath. Skye, who hadn’t nearly sprinted to the lab, finally emerged around him and made a beeline for the engineer. At her interjection into the group, Simmons and Fitz stopped arguing abruptly, with Simmons turning away to do something with a petri dish. 

Grant saw Skye tug on Fitz’s arm, but then Simmons moved further away from the two and his gaze followed her. He was abstractly aware of the sharp sound of their argument being conducted at a whisper, but he didn’t much care. Simmons looked upset, and he had to remind himself that even if the argument with Fitz were the cause, as it most likely was, she’d be more upset if something were to happen to Fitz.

He clenched his jaw to fight the urge, and took a step further into the lab, to do what he wasn’t entirely sure. Skye took advantage of the open doorway to drag a blushing Fitz out of the lab.

He could feel his muscles relax almost immediately upon being left alone with her. It was so much easier to be sure she was safe when no one else was around. Admittedly, he knew better than to think she couldn’t put herself into danger just fine on her own, especially given a lab, but it would be easy enough to remove her from the situation, or cover her from the explosion. 

Shutting the door, he walked over to where she was, only for her to move away immediately to place that petri dish in a drawer and move to fiddle with something else. 

He cleared his throat; he knew she wasn’t as observant as him, so it was possible she hadn’t even realized he was there. “We need to talk.”

She didn’t look up to acknowledge his words; instead she continued to bustle around. “I’m very busy right now Ward, can this wait?” and she wouldn’t so much as look at him.

His chest felt tight and pinched, hurting more the more she ignored him. He wanted, more than anything, to reach out and grab her and make her listen, but he was afraid of hurting her. So instead he stepped directly into her path on one of her circuits, and she was too polite not to look up after an awkwardly long moment. “I need to tell you this.” 

She leaned back, but didn’t walk away again, instead fiddling with her hair, eyes fixed on his left shoulder. “Fine. What is it?” 

He let out a breath, wanting for her to actually look at him. But he couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, make her. “I lied. It’s not Skye I’m feeling protective over. It’s you. It’s always you.” 

Her head jerked up and she stared at him, eyes wide, in shock. “Wha-what?” 

This time he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and brushing back the piece of hair she had been fiddling with. “I can still protect the rest of the team. Because I know it would hurt you if they were harmed, but please – you have to do your best to stay safe. Okay?” He tugged lightly on the strand of hair, and then his hand was on her shoulder, soothing down her arm lightly.

She stared, momentarily speechless. He turned to leave, forcing himself to let go of her arm and walking away. It was even harder than he had expected, and he was amazed he could do it. He was now positive he wouldn’t be able to stop the next time. She, of course, had no idea about the direction of his thoughts and reached out and grabbed ahold of the back of his jacket. “Why me?” 

“You have to know, Simmons.” He stared over his shoulder, resisting the urge to turn around, willing her to understand, and though her expression was hopeful, it was clear he needed to say the words. “You’re the most important person on the bus. You’re…precious.” 

He could feel her grip tighten on his jacket as she tugged him to turn around. He obliged, turning easily and stepping close. She bit her lower lip and looked at him through her eyelashes, saying, “This…do you feel this way because of the armor?” 

His gaze was fixed on her mouth, where she was abusing her lower lip, but he forced himself to meet her eyes as he shook his head. “It just enhanced what was already there.” Unfortunately he’d used the last shred of his self-control, and he found himself ghosting his fingers over her shoulders, enjoying the softness of her sweater.

She frowned at him, and his gaze dropped again. “How can you be sure? You’re under the influence of Asgardian technology.”

He frowned back at her, and his touch grew slightly firmer on her, tracing from her shoulders down to her wrists and back. “I know…Because I always save you first.”

She blinked, with a blush starting at the top of her ears, and averted her eyes again. She seemed to think about that for a moment. Her hand drifted to her mouth and she absentmindedly started to chew on the side of her thumb. “That’s just because I’m the least able to protect myself in the field.” 

He shook his head and caught her hand, drawing it away from her mouth and holding it securely. It didn’t matter if she didn’t believe him, it just mattered that she was upset, and if convincing her would make her happy then he would convince her. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, pleased that she didn’t try to remove her hand from his grip. “It’s because of how I feel about you. How I always have felt about you. I swear, Jemma.” 

Licking her lower lip she stared up at him, pale blush spreading up her cheeks. “…Really?” 

He smiled, raised her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Really.” 

She let out a sigh, “Oh. Good.” and then she leaned up and kissed him. 

His arms wrapped around her immediately, as he hauled her into his arms. And he felt like he should have warned her, because now she was never going to get away from him. Letting her go once had been hard enough he couldn’t do it again. He didn’t deserve her, but he was selfish and he would keep her.


End file.
